man. i need to get out more

okay so tom makes a point inthis interview in which he talks about how if spider-man can stop a truck with his bare hands then if he punched someone he’d most likely kill them. i’m so glad that he said this because it has always bothered me when there are these people with immense strength but they punch a robber and the robber gets back up (despite the fact that their head should be caved in) so anyway it was cool because he pointed out something i didn’t notice in all my eight times seeing the movie: spider-man never really punches anyone himself, only indirectly. this is a really powerful choice on the film makers and i think that it only makes the movie that much more dynamic and real, without needing to put in some qualifier, i was able to sit back and not think about inconsistencies too much (which is a big deal since i over analyze everything

listen you have no idea how important having a bilingual peter in the mcu is because in queens, hispanics are the majority of the minority. i see peter using spanish in the suit when he needs to help someone who doesn’t speak english. like they can utilize that so well into the next few films. man it was such a little thing that made me so happy to see. to be in a theater filled with hispanics and us all laughing out of joy and saying “Ooooo” to that first line peter speaks in spanish in the movie, like yes. i need more of that bond when watching a movie like spider-man on the big screen.

*whispers* someone write a fic where Derek saves Stiles from a fire even though it’s terrifying for him to do because it reminds him of his family and then Stiles is all surprised and awed by it and Derek realizes that Stiles the secret love of his life almost died and then KISSING

-Lots of amusement park and active dates… you better bring your asthma pump with you..i mean you are dating jeon jungkook after all

-IRON MAN NEED I SAY MORE

- Taking nothing but ugly pictures
of each other

-and using them as blackmail weapons

- YOUr wHOle family lOVe hiM

-you look like the devil besides him
to them he can do no wrong

-you two being the 'no you hang up first’ couple in the beginning but now he just hangs up

-tbh you both get off of annoying each other

- (video calling your dad)

You:Daddy! How are you?

《A wild Jungkook appears behind you》

Jungkook: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) Daddy’s fine… wHO iS–

Throws your phone out the window

-” Lets never speak of this again"

“Since when did you become 'Daddy’? ”

“Hussshhh~~( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ”

- You going to watch their dance practices = him forcing the memebers to dress up in live performance attire

-Jimin having to accept that kookie is taken T.T

- “Im okay rlly..anyways Taehyung’s free ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)…”

-If you’re short》You being teased mercilessly; Picked up at random times; literally being smothered when you hug him ; being called cuTE all tHE tIME; SPINS ALL THE TIME

-If you’re tall》 marvelling at your beautiful long legs; no discrimination YOU’D ALSO BE CALLED CUTE ALL THE TIME; Seriously kookie would marvel at how elegant you looked; him being able to rest hishead on your shoulder,; KOOKIE SAID HE LIKES TALL GIRLS SO~~(i nEeD tO gROw)

- A lot of inside jokes… people just end up thinking you two are dumb beans -

- Dont forget all the meme dances #1 Dance couple

-You guys would probably end up uploading a video with all of your signature meme dances combined

So, this took me way longer than I thought. Oops. This is a prompt fic for @stephaniebithell

I hope you like it. I’ve never actually written Voltron before. Or any kind of battle. So, go easy on me.

“WATCH OUT!” Keith’s voice cried out through the Blue Lion’s
speakers. Checking his screens, Lance had to pull hard to the left, just barely
missing the laser coming at him. The laser would have smashed into the cockpit
if he hadn’t moved, and Lance let out a small huff of breath, relieved.

“That was a close call, Lance.” Shiro berated gently, “You
need to be more careful, alright?”

Laughter echoed over the coms, and Lance pouted, whining, “Hunk,
buddy! Who’s side are you on, man?”

Dodging another laser, Hunk replied, “The one where all of
us get out of this alive? Does that count?” He dodged a few more lasers, firing
a few shots of his own, panting slightly.

“Hunk’s got a point, guys,” Shiro reminded them. “Can the
chatter, those lasers are still coming.” There was acknowledgement from all the
other paladins, and Shiro sighed in relief. “Alright, here’s the plan. Lance,
Hunk, you guys hang further back, try to pick them off from a distance. Stop
anything that gets past us. Keith, Pidge, your lions are faster and smaller, I
need you covering me. Take out the little guys. Black and I will target those
turrets. Understood?” Confirmation came from the others, and everyone moved
into position.

Everything went well for several minutes. Shiro had knocked
out all but two of the turrets, and Lance and Hunk’s teamwork had destroyed at
least a dozen big cruisers and battleships. Some of the larger ships had
started to retreat, and Lance and Hunk targeted those as well. As one was
coming up on Lance’s left, he saw Green, down and to his far right, with a
small ion cannon pointed right at its flank. Making a split-second decision,
Lance turned his lion and fired, taking out the ion cannon and saving Pidge. He
started to turn back to his original position, but he was too late. Before he
could react, a laser cut straight through his hull, sending poor Blue tumbling.
Lance was strapped in, so he stayed in place, but as the others’ yells came
over the com, a piece of debris slammed into the back of his head, and
everything went black.

When Lance came to, the battle was over. Black was towing
Blue down to the planet’s surface, where the castle and the planet’s
inhabitants were waiting. As he came back to his senses, Lance began to hear
the others.

“Lance! Kiddo, can you hear me?”

“Lance, buddy! Come on, tuagane,
wake up, man!”

“Lance, you big doofus! Wake up!” (“Pidge!” “Sorry.”)

“LANCE! Lance, please! Dammit, Lance! Wake up! Talk to me!”

Finally, finally,
Lance could move a little. “Ugh…. Keith?”

To Lance’s aching head, it was as though a full orchestra
had exploded onto the coms.

Hunk was now blubbering incoherently, Pidge was raging, and
Keith was strangely silent. Just as the noise was getting to be too much, Shiro’s
voice cut through the mayhem, muffling everything else like a blanket, “Lance.
Are you okay? Can you answer me? You were out for a while, buddy. I need to
know if you’re okay.”

Lance took several deep breaths, settling the nausea his
headache was causing, before answering softly, “I-. I think I’m okay, guys. I
have a killer headache, and I’m a little nauseous and light-headed, but I’m
okay. Might have a concussion, though.” With that, most of his energy spent, he
slumped back into his seat.

“Okay, Lance,” Shiro breathed. “Do you think you can stay
awake for me for a few minutes? We’re almost back to the castle. I’m sure you’re
really tired, but if you can put off sleeping for just a couple of minutes, I
want Coran to check you over in person. They’ve already got a pod waiting and
everything. Can you do that, kiddo?” Lance murmured an assent, and Shiro let
out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. “Alright, buddy. Thank
you.”

Shiro looked at his monitors. The landing was coming up. “Alright,
buddy, we’re right there. I’m going to put you down now, in 3 – 2 – 1.” With
that, the blue lion was placed very gently on the ground next to the other
three lions, which had already landed. Once Blue’s jaw opened, Hunk and Coran
rushed inside, while Shiro landed Black. By the time Shiro had left the
cockpit, Lance was out of his lion, and Allura was talking to the natives,
Keith beside her.

Shiro went to Lance first. Looking Lance over, he glanced to
Coran. “Coran, how is he? He was out for at least fifteen minutes.”

Coran smiled gently. “He’ll be just fine, number one. A few
vargas in a pod and he’ll be good as new.”

“Thank you, Coran. Hunk, will you help him?”

“You don’t even have to ask.” With a small smile, Hunk
pulled one of Lance’s arms over his shoulder and started moving towards the
castle. Coran followed.

Now that he knew Lance was safe, Shiro could deal with the
natives. Or, more accurately, deal with Keith, who looked to be one wrong word
away from pulling out his bayard. As Shiro came closer to the group, he started
to hear some of the conversation.

“-yes, you’ve said that the boy’s role is to be the blue
paladin, but what else does he even do? What does he contribute? From what I
saw, all he did was hang back for most of the fight, and make jokes for the
rest of it!” Ah. Now he was starting to understand Keith’s murderous
expression. Not to mention the low, continuous growl coming from Blue.

Allura cut him off. “It is not your place to question not
just my choice of paladins, but the choices of the lions themselves. The blue
lion chose Lance, and as such-“

“Princess Allura, I meant no disrespect, to you or the
lions. I was simply concerned. Voltron is the universe’s only real hope of
stopping the Galran Empire, and if its members are not efficient, perhaps-“

Shiro cut in, mouth a hard line, shoulders tense, as he
stopped Keith from doing anything rash. “If you know about the joking, then you
were listening to the coms. If you were paying attention, you would have
noticed that I gave the order for the blue and yellow lions to hang back. Those
two lions are larger, and therefore slower, but their weapons are strong. In
this situation, they were much better suited for stopping the larger ships, and
picking off stragglers. Lance especially works best at a distance. He’s the
best shooter we have. Long-distance is his forte. Those assignments were the
most efficient use of our resources.” The native was about to interrupt again,
and Shiro bit out “On top of all of that, Lance was injured defending your
planet. You would do well to remember that, and to show him the respect he
deserves.”

When he was done, Shiro turned to Keith. Keith was still
seething. “Shiro, did you hear what he was saying about Lance?”

“I heard him, Keith.”

“Lance could have died,
Shiro! And that guy was treating him like a waste of space. Space garbage!”

“I know that, Keith.” Shiro’s voice was strained. He was
angry, too, but there was nothing they could do.

“I’m gonna go back over there and teach that guy a lesson-“
Keith started to turn back around, bayard in hand, but was spun around by Shiro’s
hand on his shoulder.

“I said, NO, Keith.” Shiro spun to face him. “We can’t do
anything. Allura can handle it. Now let’s go back to the castle. Lance will be
healed in a few hours. I saw how anxious you were. I know you want to see him.
And when he wakes up, I’m sure he’ll want to see you, too.” With that, Keith
relaxed, sighing in defeat, and went on to the castle.

Shiro stood there for a moment, composing himself, before
moving in the same direction. Before he got there, he heard one last parting
shot. “You know,” the native drawled, excessively loud, “if the so-called blue
paladin were a better pilot, he wouldn’t have been hurt in the first place-“

CRUNCH. Before anyone could move, Shiro snapped. He had
rushed back, pulled back a fist, and slammed it straight into the obnoxious
native’s nose. Without a word, Shiro wiped the blood off his hand onto the man’s
shirt, and walked straight back into the castle. The look on that jerk’s face
was definitely worth the difficulty Allura had negotiating an alliance several
days later, and when Lance woke up, his laughter over the story gave Keith the
brightest smile Shiro had seen on his face in years.

If you guys want me to write what happened in between when Lance was unconscious, let me know.

Ok, first off, I adore the sense of humor, it’s just so goddamn golden, it’s over simplified and it knows it.

It’s almost like he’s mocking academics and scholars agonizingly going every tiny detail of history and arguing over the molecules.

He glosses over it, but there are these brief seconds where you can absolutely tell he’s studied it carefully and trivialized it in a meaningful way, like, he brushes over a lot of shit, but he knows he HAS to, and how does he do it?

By making really clever one-second story gloss-overs.

I just adore it.

I remember more of AP World history than I care to and boy, was this fun.

Thank you so much, I really enjoyed 20 minutes of my life there, I just think these videos are great.

Maybe they’re not as detailed as people who’re cramming for AP World need, but…it’s great on timelines and letting you know the chronology of shit.

Plus it’s funny enough to get you a little more interested in parts of history you’re not conventionally taught, right?

I mean seriously, he covers so much ground in such a great way that you’re compelled to figure out what he was referring to…

- Found family trope, which I will never get tired of in a million years

- You know that post asking for a series with a dark, fucked up, tragic beginning that gradually gets happier when the series progresses? Leverage is basically that. Four out of the five main characters have pasts that range from ‘Mildly sad and lonely’ to ‘Holy shit you’re fucked up’, but the show takes that and then makes them better. There’s no gritty downspiral, no one gets killed for shock value, it’s an action series that’s actually fun.

- Did I mention it is hilarious? Because it is. Really. Friggin’. Funny.

- Broody man getting called out on his broody man-ness

- Broody man having an awesome ex-wife who has moved on from the divorce, still cares about her ex-husband but is not bitter and also does not get jealous but instead becomes friends with ex-husbands new partner.

- No. Annoying. Love. Triangles. Just one glorious OT3.

- Ladies telling dudes they need more time before embarking on anything romantic and then getting as long as they need without anyone pressuring them into something they’re not ready for.

- Basically: HEALTHY RELATIONSHIP DEVELOPMENT

- The resident nerd is not a stereotypical white boi geek, but a rather buff and very attractive black man. You know who is a stereotypical white boi geek? The villain.

- Not only relatable heroes, but relatable villains. I mean, everyone has been screwed over at least once by the type of scumbags portrayed in Leverage, so watching them getting taken for everything they own gives me tingles. Tingles of vindication.

There’s something beautiful about the summer- they way it creates a new version of reality where music sounds better and happiness feels sweeter. Parties can give the same kind of feeling where nothing feels real, but all of it feels great. Well, until the next morning.

This makes an end of the summer party the pinnacle of a new reality. Inhibitions run low and everything else is on overdrive. In a week they will all be students again, studying to ensure the best future possible. But for tonight they are 60% alcohol and 40% bad decisions.

“Y/N!” Jess squeals with excitement, running towards the girl who just entered the room. She had been away visiting family abroad for the majority of the summer, and while the beaches had given a whole new meaning to the word ‘paradise’, this was where she was truly happiest.

“Jess!” she returns the enthusiasm, hugging her best friend tightly. The warm breezes that blew in through her window every morning this past summer brought her comfort, but this was home.

“I want in,” Justin grins, approaching the two and enveloping them between his arms.

“God I’ve missed you guys,” she sighs contentedly.

“You have so much third wheeling to catch up on,” Jess teases light heartedly.

Her face twists up unpleasantly at the thought. She loves both Jess and Justin dearly, but she does not love the thought of third wheeling. “With all due respect, I think I’ll pass.”

“Is that Y/N Y/L/N?!” a fourth voice enters the picture, causing the trio to part and turn towards the person walking towards them.

Jeff Atkins. Baseball star and literal ray of sunshine with the face of an angel and the body of a Greek God.

“Hey, Jeff,” she laughs, walking away from Jess and Justin to meet him halfway.

“I haven’t seen you in forever,” Jeff grins warmly, brushing her arm with his hand. It’s a sweet gesture. He’s always been so sweet.

“It’s only been like two months,” she mirrors his grin. It’s impossible not to smile back at someone who radiates warmth the way he does.

“Feels like forever though. Especially since I was used to seeing you everyday at school. You look nice by the way,” he bumps her shoulder.

“I missed you, too,” she chuckles, “I look like I always do.”

“Exactly.”

She bites her lips together before looking down shyly and letting them fall apart into a smile. Jeff Atkins was so genuinely good in a way that was uniquely him.

“Don’t break my heart, Y/N,” he pouts childishly, walking backward to join the boys for a game of beer pong but not breaking eye contact with her. He finally turns away from her to exit the house and join those outside, but not before mouthing a “pleaasssseeee” and sticking out his bottom lip.

“I’ll be there in a second!” she yells so he can hear her over the music.

His pout transforms into a grin before he disappears through the threshold, indicating that he heard her.

“So how about a double date instead of third wheeling?” Justin and Jess approach her with Justin wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“Oh shut up,” her face heats up at the thought, “He’s a nice guy. He’s friendly with everyone.”

“Yeah, but he doesn’t flirt with everyone,” Jess interjects, crossing her arms over her chest vindictively.

“Fuck off, Justin,” she laughs loudly, putting her hands over her face.

“You better get out there,” Justin presses, gesturing to the sliding door, “After all, it’s mine and Jess’s two month anniversary so an intense make-out session could happen at anytime.”

“Bye!” she turns on her heels quickly, running away from her friends before they could make things awkward, or more awkward.

***Five cups of jungle juice and two games of beer pong later she’s sitting on a folding lawn chair watching Jeff singlehandedly win a third game of beer pong since Troy had wandered off and was bothering Hannah and Clay.

After sinking another shot, Jeff notices where Troy had gone. A brief look of panic flashes across his face before he mutters a quick, “be right back!”, making a beeline for Troy. Jeff was just about as invested in Clay and Hannah as Clay was in Hannah. She wondered just how much better off the world would be if everyone had the same heart as Jeff.

“Did you save the day?” she asks upon Jeff’s return. She’s quite drunk and seeing two of everything, including two Jeffs. How wonderful would that be? A world with two Jeff Atkins. Incredible.

“I don’t know about that,” he chuckles modestly, “It’s up to Clay.”

“Meanwhile that beer run is up to you, buddy” Troy points out, his words slurring together.

“Later man,” Jeff replies, picking up a ping pong ball.

“Because you definitely need more alcohol,” she rolls her eyes at Troy, a sick feeling blossoming in her stomach.

“Don’t be a buzzkill, Y/N,” Troy retorts.

“Hey, relax,” Jeff snaps at Troy, “you’ll get your beer.”

The sick feeling in her stomach intensifies tenfold. She doesn’t want him to go, but she can’t beg him to stay. He’s not drunk, he would never jeopardize his life or anyone else’s so recklessly. But something about it still doesn’t feel right. He shouldn’t go.

She stands up, wobbling slightly. She grabs the back of her lawn chair to steady herself before heading back for the house. The twisting in her stomach is ominous in a way that refuses to be ignored.

“Where’re you going?” Jeff asks, his eyebrows knitting together.

“I need another drink,” she mumbles, brushing past him.

***Three shots and a game of suck and blow later she’s feeling light and airy. All the anxiety from earlier has been replaced with a tingling feeling that reaches her feet. She’s quite hammered, and all the slip ups in suck and blow have her laughing and her sides aching. She’s starting to get lightheaded.

“I’m gonna go get some air,” she gasps in-between fits of laughter.

“Can you even walk?” Jess giggles.

“I’ll crawl if I have to,” she shrugs, stumbling her way out the door.

***There’s nothing like the refreshing sensation of cool air hitting your skin after being cooped up in a house full of drunks, especially when you’re drunk yourself. The feeling of a breeze on her face is intoxicating in its own right, so she continues to walk around the outside of the house until she reaches the front.

There’s someone else at the front of the house, too. She can only see their back as they walk towards the row of cars, but she knows who it is. Suddenly she remembers why she felt the need to down three shots of vodka.

“Atkins,” she calls out, stumbling a bit as she walks forward.

He turns around at the sound of his name, smiling when he sees who it is. “Hey, you. Looks like you got that drink you wanted,” he laughs lightheartedly at her shaky balance.

“You making that beer run?” she asks, wringing her hands together nervously.

“Yeah. I’m not even a little buzzed, don’t worry,” he says soothingly.

“Stay,” she says softly.

“Huh?” he tilts his head to the side.

She continues to walk forward until she’s standing right in front of him, her weight falling to the side enough to make her falter. He reaches out to steady her, keeping a firm grasp on her side. She places her hands on his chest to steady herself before locking her eyes on his.

“Stay,” she repeats.

“Y/N, it’s okay I’m completely fine I promise. I only had two beers like two hours ago,” he assures, his voice gentle.

“I know, but it’s not like anybody needs anymore alcohol. I’m one of the more sober ones right now and that says a lot. Honestly I don’t even know how I made it out here on my own,” she sighs, “Just stay, please. ”

He looks at her softly, his eyes studying the worry etched onto her face. She feels so delicate in his grasp, like a porcelain doll that could shatter with too much pressure. He has always been enamored with her.

“Okay,” he moves his hands to hold her face, “I’ll stay.”

She lets out a heavy breath, letting her forehead rest against his chest and wrapping her arms around him. Maybe she was worrying over nothing, maybe she wasn’t, but she’s unexplainably relieved at those words.

“You gotta promise to watch me play baseball though,” he teases.

“I’ll be there every game with a sign that has your name on it,” she laughs, tilting her chin up to look at him.

“You gotta stop looking at me like that,” he shakes his head,“I might just fall in love with you.”

“Don’t get my hopes up.”

“Don’t leave for two months at a time,” he counters, grinning boyishly.

“I’d stay right here forever if I could,” she tightens her arms around him.

“I’d kiss you if you weren’t like 10 drinks deep right now,” he laughs, rubbing her back gingerly.

“Let’s go inside. I need to get sober. Right now. Immediately,” she pulls away, grabbing his hand to tow him behind her. Their laughter echoes down the empty street as they run around to the back of the house.

There’s something beautiful about the end of summer- the way things begin to feel more permanent. A simple request can change so much. All he had to do was stay. And he did.

Prompt: The reader and Reid both have a crush on the other person but are too scared of ruining their friendship to tell the other person. Penelope decided to give them a little push and drags Derek into her mischevious scheme.

A/N: This was an idea that popped into my head because I could definitely see Morgan and Garcia meddling in their coworkers love lives. I’m not opposed to making a part two of this, so let me know if that’s something that you would want. Also, anyone who can catch the subtle F.R.I.E.N.D.S. reference that is in here somewhere is my favorite person ever. Enjoy :)

Note: (Y/F/C) = your favorite candy

Warning: nothing

Word Count: 3k

Rating: PG

Penelope sighed in frustration as she watched you and Spencer alternate staring at each other. It was almost painful the way that neither of you actually caught the other doing so. It was like some form of fate caused you to look away a second before Spencer decided to look up. Derek noticed her standing in the doorway. “Hey Baby Girl,” he called and walked over to her. She muttered a “hello” before huffing and crossing her arms. “Whoa whoa whoa, what’s the matter gorgeous? Those processing systems in that big brain of yours hung up on something?”

“How does it not drive you crazy?” she mumbled and Morgan raised an eyebrow at her.

“How does what not drive me crazy?”

“The two of them!” she whisper-shouted and spun around walking off toward her lair. Derek rolled his eyes, but obediently followed her down the hall.

“Gonna need a little more information sweetness,” he told her, leaning against the doorframe.

“Oh c’mon, do I need to spell it out for you? (Y/N) and Spencer. The way those two are pining after each other it’s both sickening and sweet at the same time. I’m not even a profiler and I can tell that they are head over heels. I mean I know (Y/N) is because she told me one night when I got her super drunk with the intent of forcing the information out of her, but that is beside the point,” Penelope explained as she pulled up the bullpen’s security video feed and maneuvered the cameras so they were facing you and Spencer’s desks.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m people watching.”

“Do you do this all the time?” Morgan asked standing behind her chair.

“Only when we don’t have a case or anything else to do,” Penelope defended, “You would not believe how boring it gets in here and you people never come visit me!”

“But why- you know what nevermind. Just please tell me that you don’t mess with the cameras in my office.”

“My vision, you are the object of my affection but for the most part my attentions have been focussed on my current OTP as you never do anything interesting in your office.”

“Forgive me for actually doing work instead of making googly eyes at my coworkers.”

“So you have noticed!”

“Of course I’ve noticed. The whole team has noticed. The only ones in the dark about it are the two of them,” Derek chuckled. Penelope smiled as she watched the two of you. You had gone over to ask Spencer something, but he had been so focused on his work you’d startled him and he’d almost spilled his coffee all over himself.

“They are so cute,” she sighed, “Derek I want my OTP to be together!”

“Somehow I don’t think we get a vote or have the power to make that happen,” he replied, kissing the top of her head. Penelope suddenly perked up.

“But what if we did?”

“What are you talking about?” he asked as she spun her chair around.

“What if there was a way that we could force Reid’s hand and make him admit something or ask her out?”

“Baby Girl, Reid has specifically told me that he doesn’t want me messing with this. You think I haven’t tried to get him to make a move?”

“He told you that, but he never told me,” she chirped, turning back toward her computer and started typing away. She pulled up a website for custom floral arrangements and started clicking on various options.

“What are you doing?”

“Creating something that all of you men hate. Competition,” she replied, patting the side of his face. A few more minutes of meddling the order had been placed, ready to be delivered tomorrow morning.

“Why do I get the feeling I’m going to be the one he blames for this?” Derek sighed shaking his head.

“Ha, do not worry my vision. If all goes bad, we pretend like it never happened,” Penelope told him.

You walked into the bullpen the next morning smiling happily as you carried two cups of coffee. You glanced around looking for Spencer, before nonchalantly setting one of the cups down on his desk and arranged the mountain of sugar packets you’d also brought into an orderly pile. You quickly scurried back to your desk and sat down, trying to look casual as you waited for Spencer to arrive. “No coffee for the rest of us, I’m genuinely hurt,” Derek teased, as he sat down on your desk.

“Hey, the only order I remember is Spence’s because it’s the easiest thing ever: a large black coffee and then just bring the whole container of sugar to him,” you replied trying to casually look around him.

“Uh huh,” Morgan muttered, clearly unconvinced.

“Good morning,” Reid said as he walked over to his desk past the two of you.

“Hi, Spencer,” you chirped, “I stopped for coffee this morning and brought you some.”

“Thank you so much, you would not believe the morning I’ve had. How much do I owe you?”

“Well, thank you. Did you know that coffee was banned three times in three different cultures: once in Mecca in the 16th century, once when Charles II in Europe banned the drink in an attempt to quiet an ongoing revolution, and once when Frederick the Great banned coffee in Germany in 1677 because he was concerned people were spending too much money on the drink,” he rambled. You smiled and shoved Morgan off of your desk, so you could actually see Spencer.

“Well, I didn’t know that, but I do know that banning coffee should be a crime,” you giggled. Reid smiled back at you and opened his mouth to say something but suddenly went pale. “What’s-”

“I have a delivery for a Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” a man said cutting you off.

“That would be me,” you replied, turning around. “What can..I..do..” you stuttered as you came face to face with a huge vase of lilies and red roses.

“Sign here please,” the delivery man said, handing you a clipboard and setting the vase down on your desk. You scribbled your signature down on the form and handed it back to the man. “Have a nice day,” he said walking away.

“Yeah, you too,” you muttered still too focussed on your flowers.

“Oh my god, those are gorgeous,” JJ mentioned as she walked over to your desk.

“Who are they from?” Emily asked, joining the two of you.

“I have no idea,” you replied, pulling the card off the side of the vase.

“Read it,” JJ urged leaning in closer. None of you noticed that Spencer had unconsciously leaned closer to the group as well trying to listen.

“Nothing can ever compare to your beauty, but these flowers are certainly a nice way to compliment it. I hope these make that lovely smile of yours appear on your face, signed your secret admirer,” you read out loud and closed the card.

“Oooh, this is interesting,” Emily said nudging your shoulder.

“Any idea who it could be?” JJ asked.

“Not a clue,” you replied, sitting back down in your chair, “I’m not seeing anyone and no one has asked me out recently.”

“Anyone who you hope it is?”

“Yeah, but considering he hasn’t shown the slightest sign of interest I’m pretty sure it isn’t him,” you mumbled. Unbeknownst to you, Spencer had wandered away into the break room fuming. This happened every time he’d finally work up the courage to ask you out on a date or flirt with you at all something would happen. Morgan would come interrupt, Hotch would suddenly announce that you had a case, or in this case, some jerk would write you poetry and send you flowers. He downed the rest of the coffee that you had bought him and started making another cup.

“Fancy flower man? Really Reid, that’s the best you can come up with?” Derek asked trying not to laugh.

“I have plenty of other vulgar things I could call him so don’t push it.”

“Hey, I’m not the one encroaching on your girl, but I would recommend you do something about it before you loose her to fancy flower man.”

“You think I should what?”

“Well, you’re her friend. I’m pretty sure you can find a way to top the giant array of flowers that he sent her.”

“I definitely could,” Spencer muttered, deep in thought, “I need to get to work but first I’m going to get Garcia to figure out who sent those to her.”

“Uh,” Derek stuttered, trying to come up with a way to divert him, “Why does it matter who it is? You should be more concerned with your plan to woo her, you can worry about who it was later.”

“You’re right. I’m going to take my lunch early. I need to go get a few things,” Spencer said and quickly rushed back to his desk to grab his wallet. Derek sighed in relief, happy that he’d managed to redirect Reid’s thought process, and made himself a cup of coffee. Your sudden presence in the break room caught his attention. “And where are you going lady of the hour?” he asked sipping his coffee.

“I’m grabbing another sugar for my coffee and then I’m going to get Garcia to find out who this admirer person is.” Derek did a spit take and started coughing. “Whoa, you ok?”

“Yes, yes, I’m fine. But maybe you should just let this play out? See if he reveals himself to you?”

“Derek, I just want to know who it is so I can tell him I’m not interested. There’s only one guy who’s attention I want and he seems to not really care.”

“Sweetness, Reid is a great guy just a little awkward and shy when it comes to ladies, you might try being a bit more obvious about it,” he teased. You furrowed your brow and slowly turned your head toward him.

“How did you know I have a crush on Spencer?”

“I’m a profiler and I’m really good at my job.” Derek replied.

“Yeah sometimes I forget what we do for a living.”

“And the fact that Penelope can’t keep her mouth shut,” he muttered quietly to himself. Just not quiet enough.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing!”

“I’m going to kill her!” you growled and stormed off toward Penelope’s office.

“No no no, wait!” Derek shouted as he chased after you. You tore the door open and walked in.

“Hello my lovely, what can I do for you today?” Penelope chirped. You narrowed your eyes at her before flicking her on the side of the head.

“OW!” she shrieked. “What was that for?”

“I cannot believe you told Derek that I like Spencer. I told you that in confidence and you swore you wouldn’t tell another soul,” you fumed.

“Yes and in doing that you’ve managed to scare him. He took off fifteen minutes ago,” you grumbled flopping down in the chair beside her.

“Aw, sweets it’s gonna be ok.”

“My life is over.”

“Hey look on the bright side, at least you got some bitchin flowers,” she said trying to lighten the mood. You lifted your head and glared at her.

“Not funny.”

“(Y/N), you need to get back to your desk and take a look at this,” Derek said as he walked into Penelope’s office.

“And you! You knew she was going to do this and you didn’t stop her,” you growled and stalked over to him, poking his chest.

“As upset as you are right now, I really think you should just go back to your desk. You might like what you find,” Derek replied pushing your hand away. You narrowed your eyes at him.

“If this is another part of this BS plan you two have going on, I’m going to kill you both,” you grumbled, stalking down the hallway.

“What are you doing?” Penelope whispered at Derek, as they followed you.

“Just watch,” he replied with a smug look on his face. You were expecting to see yet another bouquet of flowers that the two of them had sent to you, but you certainly weren’t expecting this. Your desk was scattered with various pieces of paper and rose petals. A large white teddy bear was sitting in your chair with a bouquet of gardenias nestled in its arms and a bag of (Y/F/C) tucked in beside it. You stood rooted in place out of surprise until Derek gave you a slight nudge. You walked forward and picked up one of the pieces of paper. You smiled as you recognized Spencer’s handwriting and started reading. It was a poem by Christina Rossetti, one of your favorites actually “I loved you first”. You had talked about this with Spencer months ago, when you both discovered your shared love of poetry. From the looks of it, he had managed to write down all of your favorite poems on these little notes (probably including a few of his own favorites) and put them all over your desk. You plucked the bouquet of gardenias out of the bear’s arms and smelled them.

“Red roses traditionally symbolize love and passion while gardenias’ symbolize pure, secret love which more accurately displays how I feel about you,” Spencer mumbled from behind you. You immediately spun around and dropped the bouquet back in your chair, before throwing your arms around his neck and crashing your lips into his. He seemed to be stunned for a few seconds, before kissing you back and wrapping his arms around your waist. Hoots and hollers came from all around the office, mainly from Penelope and Emily. You separated a little breathlessly and rested your forehead against his. The pair of you were smiling from ear to ear. “Please tell me this isn’t a dream,” he muttered closing his eyes.

“Nope,” you replied popping the “p”, “I’m real.”

“So I take it you like me too or else I think you’ve been sending some very mixed signals.” You chuckled and kissed him again.

“Does that answer your question?” you asked, after you’d pulled back.

“I think it does, and to think I had a whole speech planned out to make you at least go on one date with me,” he replied scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. You just shook your head and smiled at him.

“That’s so sweet, but how on earth did you have time to set this up? I couldn’t have been gone more than fifteen minutes,” you said, turning slightly to look at your desk,

“14 minutes and 23 seconds actually, but I’ve had the notes sitting in my bag for about a week now,” he told you.

“Ok, that’s enough, back to work all of you,” Hotch said, commotion having finally drawn him out of his office. There was a collective “sorry” muttered from around the office, before Hotch turned his attention to the two of you. “Do we need to have a conversation or can I trust that this isn’t going to affect work?”

“I think we’re good,” you answered.

“Good, now I need to call Dave and inform him that he owes me twenty bucks as do the two of you,” Hotch chuckled motioning JJ and Emily. The two women groaned slightly before reaching for their purses.

“To make a long story short, we started a pool going for how long it would take the two of you to get together after three months of watching the two of you flirt. I had yesterday, Hotch had today, Rossi had tomorrow, and JJ had next Monday,” Emily explained as she walked up the stairs and handed the money to Hotch, who gladly pocketed it and went back in his office to presumably call Rossi who was off on vacation time.

“I cannot believe this! How many people in this office are invloved in our love lives?” you cried in frustration, even though you were smiling.

“Wait, who else is involved in our love life?” Spencer asked, looking down at you confused.

“And that’s our cue to run chocolate thunder,” Penelope muttered, as she took off running dragging Derek along behind her. You shook your head and laughed, all irritation suddenly vanishing.

“Wonder what that was about,” Reid thought out loud, as you unwound from his arms and moved all his gifts out of your chair.

“Don’t worry about it, just remind me to tell Brian from payroll to send her some flowers,” you told him. He looked very confused but just shrugged and kissed your forehead. You grinned up at him, knowing that this was the start of one of the best times in your life.

Horror in Room 1046

Just after lunch time on 2 January, 1935, a young man entered the Hotel President in Kansas City, Missouri. He had no luggage and asked if he could have a room for the night. He signed his name as “Roland T. Owen” was given the key for room 1046. Shortly afterwards, the maid arrived to clean the room. As she opened the door, she found the man sitting on the bed in the dark. Even though it was still light outside, he had tightly drawn the blind. She recalled that the man seemed somewhat afraid or nervous. As she was cleaning, he put on his coat and left the room, asking her to leave the door unlocked because he was expecting a friend to arrive later on. At approximately 4PM, the maid arrived at room 1046 to leave fresh towels for the evening. The man was lying on the bed with a note beside him which read: “Don, I will be back in fifteen minutes. Wait.”

The following morning, the maid arrived once again to clean the room. Once again, she found the man sitting in the dark. As she cleaned around him, he took a call from “Don” and told him he wasn’t going to get any breakfast. Before she left, he began to question her about her role within the hotel and what duties she was to carry out. When she returned later on in the afternoon with more fresh towels, an unidentified male grunted that they didn’t need any. Later on in the afternoon, another guest reported hearing a woman’s voice coming from room 1046 and relayed that she sounded angry. At around 11pm that night, a man driving downtown saw a man running down the street in pants and a shirt - strange clothing choice for the brisk winter air, he though. The man asked the driver, who he initially mistook as a taxi driver, if he could give them a lift to somewhere that he could flag down a taxi. He noted that the oddly dressed man had a large wound on his arm and looked in a bad shape.

Back at the Hotel President the next morning, it was noticed that the phone in room 1046 was left off the hook. A bellboy was sent up to inform the guest. When nobody answered, he used a master key to enter the room. At first glance, he saw blood smeared over the walls and over the floor. In the bathroom, “Roland T. Owen” was on his knees with rope tied around his neck and wrists. He had been repeatedly stabbed and bludgeoned across the head. Still clinging to life, he said he had “fell against the bathtub.” He died later on that night. An investigation of the room turned up nothing. Not one piece of clothing could be found nor any complimentary hygiene products or towels. It was soon discovered that the man had given a fake name, thus his body was displayed at a local funeral home in the hopes that somebody could recognise him. The man who had picked up the bewildered hitchhiker the night before recognised him immediately. Multiple people from separate establishments, including other hotels and even a wrestling arena, came forward to identify him. However, each person that identified him said that he gave a different name.

As the weeks passed, the man remained unidentified, even though many could identify him by appearance. He was intended to be buried in the city’s cemetery for the unidentified but as locals caught wind of this, police received an anonymous letter from somebody who asked them to hold the burial off until they would be able to forward a hefty amount for a decent burial and funeral. Days later, the money came in and he was buried in Memorial Park Cemetery. A local florist also received an anonymous donation for a bouquet of flowers that were signed off with “Love Forever - Louise.” Other than a couple of investigators working on the case, nobody attended the funeral.

The case remained cold until 1936, when Eleanor Ogletree read about the murder in a magazine. She believed the description of the man sounded like her brother, 17-year-old Artemus Ogletree, who had been missing since 1934. The family had assumed he was okay because in spring of 1935 - months after “Roland T. Owen” died - they had received several typewritten letters from Artemus, claiming he was sailing to Europe. The family were initially suspicious of these letters because Artemus couldn’t type. A few months after these letters, they received a phone call from a man who told them that Artemus had saved his life in Egypt and that he was happily married to a woman he had met in his travels.

The Ogletree family were shown a photo of the murder victim. It was Artemus, they unfortunately confirmed. His identification led to even more questions. Why had he used so many fake names? Who was the woman in his room? Who was Don? What happened to him the evening he was picked up by the driver, looking dishevelled? Who paid for his funeral? Who was Louise? Who sent the letters to his family? And finally, who killed him and why?

I’m a very logical person, and I believe most things can be explained through science, but I’ve had a few experiences that I’ve had trouble explaining to myself–moments my body tells me has happened, but my mind tells me should not have. I guess, according to sixpence, they’re called “glitches”.
As I said, I’ve had a few of these experiences, but most of them have been fractions of seconds long. I’m not superstitious or overtly paranoid, but last summer, on a cruise with two of my cousins around my age, something happened that I haven’t quite been able to shake.
It was our second night on the ship, and we thought it would be funny to run around causing havoc, in a real “Leonardo Decaprio sticking it to the upper class in Titanic” sort of way. We found our way to the richer levels, and laughed our way down elaborate hallways with beautiful lighting. While walking (or rather, stomping) we discovered that each door had a doorbell. These halls were different from the rest of the ship in that they were long and dead-ended. This meant that when we decided to ding-dong-ditch everyone, it required that one person stand at the end of the hall, then sprint to the two waiting at the exit while slamming their hands on each doorbell. After much discussion, we decided that my boy cousin was faster than both of us, and would be less likely to get caught.
After a few seconds of preparation, my cousin and I danced on our feet, watching him speed through the halls, itching to run from our self-inflicted trouble. When he got to the end, a large man stuck his head out of his fancy door, and after watching us giggling and pressing more doorbells, decided to chase us. There aren’t many places to hide if you get caught on a boat, so an unspoken consensus was made that we would need to run fast enough to not be recognized.
We sprinted down levels and levels of stairs, until we reached a landing with no where to go, except for into the endless hallways. Now the hallways were set up so that if you kept running in one direction, you would go in circles, but each landing had an exit to the left and an exit to the right. We knew we had a few seconds to debate which way to go, but for the first time that night, I disagreed with them. I thought it would be more faster to get to our room if we went to the left, and they thought the same of the right. We didn’t have time to debate and agree, because we soon heard yells and stomps from the stairs in front of us. Without thinking, we split up. I pulled out my timer, just to prove without a doubt that my way was faster, and began sprinting, quickly finding my way towards our room. My timer, which I screenshotted, said 1 minute, 34 seconds. I entered the room smugly, convinced I had beat them.
When I saw my cousins talking closely when I entered, I was disappointed. When they saw me, they were shocked. They had been discussing what to say to my grandma about me getting caught by the man. To them I had been gone for over an hour. To me and my phone, I had been gone for 1 minute, 34 seconds.
The next half hour was spent debating how long I was gone, the games with the doorbells before were completely forgotten.
Everything except for my timer and my mind tell me that they were right, but I know what my phone says, and I know I would not have been able to continuously sprint for over an hour.
That night I lay awake, trying to convince myself that they were right, but I knew how long I had run for, and so I kept asking myself: where was I for the other 58 and ½ minutes?

I don’t know if anyone has done this yet (and they probably have) but what if Saitama was the god of the Underworld simply because he drew the short straw (as per Greek Mythology). Due to his rather off putting job and bland personality, he is seen as an outcast among the other gods on Mount Olympus. He rarely leaves the Underworld because no one wants him around and his presence becomes such a buzzkill whenever he’s at a party or in a group with the other gods despite the fact that his job is rather important and very essential to the functions of human life and the gods. Without death, humans would be very different creatures. The only person who seems to realize this is Mumen, messenger of the gods, who visits on occasion.

One day, Mumen convinces Saitama to come out of hiding simply to go for a walk and he agrees because he literally had nothing else to do at the time. The duo find a meadow to lay in and they talk about whatever comes to mind. Mumen ends up having to leave but Saitama stays a little longer just to enjoy the weather. After a while, he hears a sound and he leans up to see what caused it. He finds the most beautiful man he has ever seen. His hair is as golden as the sun, his skin as pale as the moon. Pure light seems to radiate off of him and Saitama is instantly captivated and enchanted. The man is examining a nearby tree and Saitama is content to simply just watch and stare.

He knows all he would be able to do is look. He knows no one would ever want to speak to him so he just sits there. However, the young man turns around suddenly, meeting his gaze, his eyes black, his irises a glowing yellow. Saitama literally doesn’t know what to do so he kind of freezes in place. They stare at each other for who knows how long. Finally, the man takes a step forward as if he plans on coming over but he’s stopped by someone calling his name—Genos, it was—and he hestitates before leaving.

After that, Saitama can’t get Genos out of his head no matter what he does. He simply cannot forget that gorgeous face and those enchanting eyes. He leaves the Underworld by himself this time under the pretenses of getting some air but he just wants to see Genos again. He lies down in the same meadow and kind of dozes off after a while. He’s awoken by a movement to his right and he opens his eyes to find a flower resting on the ground beside him. He looks around but there’s no one. Despite that he smiles as he picks up the flower. After that, each time he goes back to the meadow, there’s a flower there to greet him.

Gladio, Iggy and Noct are on their roadtrip when they come across a bunch of cars spread across the roadBattered and smokingSome have been flipped over the barrier, people littering the ground as well as bodies of beasts and the black sludge that’s a telltale sign of demons

All the devastation converges on one car somewhat down the incline so they decided to check it out

Theyre almost on the car when a shot rings out and only Gladio’s quick reflexes saves them as he gets his shield out and up

Homecoming spoilers. Pin for later when you’ve watched the film. :) I repeat, spoilers. SPOILERS.

Being his best friend, aside from Ned, of course.

Living just across the hall. It was actually how you two met back in the day when he used to visit Aunt May and Uncle Ben.

Struggling and mourning the loss of Uncle Ben, because let’s face it, you adored those two with all your heart. (They used to babysit you whenever your parents needed a last minute babysitter)

Rubbing the fact that Aunt May loves you more (even though she loves you two the same) in Peter’s face.

Enduring all of Aunt May’s larb jokes whenever you join them for Thai.

“I larb you, Peter. And I larb you too, [Y/N]

“Okay, Aunt May…..enough.”

“What? You don’t larb me? Am I too lame to be larbed? Too cool to larb your awesome aunt? Not enough larb to go around to your good ole aunt? Saved all your larb for you one true larb, [Y/N]? Huh? Hm?”

“Uh….we larb you too?”

“Thank you, [Y/N]. At least someone larbs me.”

Being completely supportive of Peter getting an internship with Tony Stark.

Offering to help him with his internship.

Getting slightly offended that he doesn’t want help.

“Am I not smart enough to help you?”

“What? God, no. It’s not that…..it’s um….I just have to do this on my own, that’s all. You know, no help. Strictly myself….”

Competing against him with academic scores.

Being extremely competitive with each other when it came to exams.

Going back and forth on having the highest grade.

Talking about going to the most prestige college and then changing your minds because you two could never leave Aunt May.

Putting up with Ned being needy.

“Ned….this is a date….between two people.”

“Oh cool, I love pizza. I’ll just sit down right here and take a slice.”

“Ned….”

“Yeah, so anyway, you two should come over and help me build my lego deathstar. It’s legit.”

Bickering with Ned, constantly. (But, loving him just as much as Peter)

Getting along great with Michelle.

Roasting Peter and Ned into oblivion with her.

Like full on roasts. It’s fantastic how long you and Michelle can go.

I mean, it’s almost not fair how hard you go.

But, in the end, Peter loves you and is sort of relieved that you get along with the people in his life.

Movie marathons.

Cuddles for days.

Like the kind of cuddles that make you all warm and fuzzy inside.

You know, the ones where you just sigh happily in his arms and think that Disney World ain’t got shit on being the happiest place on earth.

Netflixin’ and chillin’, (if you know what I mean, wink-wink) Forgive me, I forget that’s he’s fifteen. No sir, keep that in your pants now, you little rascal. And you? Don’t be puttin’ out, miss. .

Geeking out over Star-Wars, Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, etc.

Going to Comic-Cons and dressing up.

Building and experimenting to the point where Aunt May and your parents scold you two for almost blowing up the complex.

Although, it’s not like you actually could blow up a building to that magnitude.

And after the fire department threatened to arrest you two, you put an end to experimenting.

Peter making you a playlist on your ipod.

Listening to it all the time because you just love the songs he chose.

He’ll even leave it at your front door in a cute little handwritten paper bag if he’s sick for the day.

Always being told he loves you.

Because, you’re the best thing that ever happened to him.

You being embarrassed when he tells random strangers that he loves you.

Like, you’ll be walking down the street and he’ll look at the old lady walking her yorkie, “Excuse me, m’am. But, I just want you to know how much I love this girl right here.”

“Peter.”

Then flagging down a taxi to tell the driver too. “Hey, yeah no, I don’t need a ride. Just wanna tell you that I love my girlfriend.”

Peter even telling Happy who always responds with, “Can’t wait for the day she leaves you.”

Him keeping his double-agent life a secret.

Because he doesn’t want you to get hurt.

Constantly wondering why Peter’s free time is slowly diminishing. Because you can’t quite believe the internship was that demanding.

Worrying that Peter was going to break up with you.

Peter finding out about your worries through Michelle. (Who threatened to skin him alive should he ever hurt you.)

Taking a night off from his “internship” to take you out.

“Peter….we’ve been on the train forever.”

“Have a little bit of patience, [Y/N].”

“Where are we going? Does Aunt May know you’re out right now? How much longer? Is this going to be forever? Are we running away from our problems? Running from being millennials and trying to fit in with society? I didn’t pack anything. How are we going to survive the outside world?”

Peter intentionally ignoring your million questions by putting his headphone in one ear and other in yours.

Playing your favorite song to keep you quiet.

Realizing he’s taking you to Central Park.

Almost on the verge of tears when you find out that he organized a candlelit picnic under the stars.

Seeing Ned in the distance as he walks away and knowing that he had a hand in it.

Smiling and feeling secure that Peter is here to stay.

Getting a weird feeling that he’s still hiding something.

Unsure of how to go about asking him what he’s hiding because you don’t want to cross a line.

Michelle not caring and confronting him before coming back to you and confirming that he is hiding something because of the way he acted.

Feeling uneasy but forcing yourself to believe that Peter would tell you everything and anything because you two were on the same level and understanding about your relationship.

Using the Washington D.C. trip to curve your mind from it.

It failing when Peter decides to re-join the decathlon team.

Forcing yourself to ignore the gut feeling that Peter is hiding something when you asked him why he decided to re-join.

Peter being completely oblivious to your uneasiness.

Pushing it to the back of your brain when Liz scolds you for not having your head in the game.

But it coming back when Peter doesn’t show up for the decathlon.

Corning Ned and demanding where Peter is and why he isn’t answer his phone.

Getting irritated when Ned stumbles over his words.

Becoming so upset that you tell Ned to tell Peter that he better have an explanation or else they would be over.

Visiting the monument with everyone with the exception of Peter (obviously) and Michelle who passed on the tour.

Ignoring Ned when he tries to talk to you.

Liz concerned that you were upset and asks if you want to talk about it.

About to confide in her when the elevator of the Monument starts to malfunction.

Peter freaking the hell out when Michelle screams, “My friends are up there!”

Panicking and pleading Karen to help him find a way to save you and everyone else.

Trying to stay calm even though your heart is about to flip out of your chest.

Getting mad all over again because you were going to die pissed off at your boyfriend.

Spider Man saving you just in the nick of time.

Being so traumatized over the ordeal and Peter not being there, you lash out on him when he finally decides to make an appearance.

Michelle shaking her head, “You messed up, dude.”

“[Y/N], wait! Please, I can explain.”

“Explain? Explain?! I’m going to need a whole encyclopedia of an explanation, Peter. Can you give me that?

Ned trying to diffuse the situation.

Getting even more pissed off and breaking up with Peter.

Michelle whistling (because she didn’t see it coming), “Man, that’s rough. You gonna be okay? Actually? I don’t care. Bye.” Running after you to make sure you were going to be okay.

Ignoring all of Peter’s texts and phone calls.

Having your parents stop Peter from coming into the apartment even though they felt you were being silly. (They adored Peter)

- That scene in “Civil War” where Peter insists on being called “Spiderman”; not “Spiderling”, or “The Human Spider” (like Tony teased), but “SpiderMAN”

- Tony knows immediately, but doesn’t let Peter know that he knows. Just every once in a while, when Peter finds that he’s low on cash for new binders or hormone treatments, he’ll look in his account and find that a good sum of money has been transferred to him from the Stark account

- Also Tony is more than willing to provide the money needed when or if Peter decides to get top surgery

- Happy is clueless at first. He knows that the new kid is hiding something, but he doesn’t know what exactly. Once Happy confronts Peter about it and Peter tells him Happy is immediately supportive and he instantly sends out a mass email to everyone in Stark industries saying that anyone disrespecting Peter’s gender (or really anyone’s for that matter) will be immediately fired, and he insists on escorting Peter to any Pride marches that he decides to take part in, and he basically vows to go toe-to-toe with anyone who is transphobic towards his spider godson

- Aunt May of course knows (she was one of the first people Peter came out to), and she is more than happy to help her nephew with anything he needs to feel more at home with his gender. Needless to say the night he came home asking her for help with getting ready for homecoming her mind was instantly running a mile a minute with “Oh my god this is it this is the day my little boy is becoming a man oh my god he’s come so far I need to do whatever I can to make sure this night goes perfect I’ll tell him how to slow dance and I’ll get him a corsage for his date and oh shit he’s gonna want to wear a tie with his suit fuck I don’t know how to do a windsor knot Youtube help me”

- Bruh, that scene where Peter is interrogating that one guy and the dude is like “What’s wrong with your voice? I know what a girl sounds like”, and Peter immediately gets upset, yelling “I’M NOT A GIRL I’M A BOY!”

Please feel free to add on with anymore supporting evidence or headcanons